


And I love you.

by ButtTouchBrigade



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 17:58:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3078077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButtTouchBrigade/pseuds/ButtTouchBrigade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post!BotFA</p><p>Bilbo stared into the fireplace, shivering. If only a certain Dwarf King was here to keep him warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I love you.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic involving these two beautiful characters so forgive me if they seem a little out of character!

Bilbo sat by the fire, staring into it without thinking about anything but his adventure. It had been 3 months since he had returned from Erebor, leaving Thorin and the company to rule over the mountain without his councelling.

Thorin had been reluctant to let him go, and he had been reluctant to leave the dwarven king himself. Bilbo sighed as the image of Thorin invaded his thoughts. An unspoken agreement had been made when Bilbo worked on slowing Thorin’s bleeding down after his fight with Azog the Defiler.

_He had seen Azog’s corpse and lost any ounce of calmness that remained in his body. He had sprinted to Thorin’s unconscious form and asked him to stay with him. To stay alive. To look at the eagles, because the eagles were arriving. Thorin had coughed, convulsed and then relaxed. His eyes fluttered open, and he had asked the Hobbit for his forgiveness._

Bilbo put his cup down on the table in front of him with a sigh. Would it even have been possible to refuse the dwarf’s apology? It was not in Hobbit nature to hold a grudge, anyway, Bilbo thought to himself. But the Dwarf’s tearful eyes and quick breathing had melted Bilbo’s heart into a mess of emotions.

_He couldn’t stop himself from crying. His tears dripped on Thorin’s cheeks as the dwarf moved in and out of consciousness. Bilbo had pressed his hands on the wound and begged any deity out there, whether it be dwarven or elven, to save the future King._

_“We’re victorious, Thorin,” he’d whispered to the Dwarf, pressing his nose against Thorin’s armored shoulder. “We’ve won.”_

_The dwarf had reached up and cupped Bilbo’s cheek. With little remaining strength, he smiled. “Master Burglar,” he’d whispered, but Bilbo had quickly interrupted him. “Bilbo, you can call me Bilbo.” The dwarf closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, not without wincing however. “Bilbo,” the king murmured. “Thank you.”_

Bilbo leaned back into his arm chair, staring up at the ceiling. Yes, a silent, mutual agreement had been made. Bilbo’s affection toward Thorin was reciprocated. The Hobbit cast a glance outside, at the snow that had piled outside his front yard. He hadn’t left his house ever since he came back, he had been so busy writing his book. This time was the first time he’d let himself have a break.

“And look where that’s got me,” he whispered to himself, tears stinging his eyes. “Alone with only my thoughts as company.” He shivered, and inched himself closer to the fireplace, not without imagining what it would be like if the dwarf King was here, holding him, sharing warmth with him.

A fire spread across his cheeks and he sprang off his chair, slapping himself on the leg twice for having such lewd thoughts. “Bilbo Baggins I thought you were an honourable Hobbit!” he exclaimed, storming into his pantry and gathering food. If he was having these thoughts, it was definitely because he was hungry. He placed the ingredients on the kitchen counter and prepared a fire. He was chopping carrots when two, overly strong and loud knocks on his door resonated through his hearth. He jumped with a small scream, dropping the knife on the counter and rushing to the door, carrot still in hand.

“Who on this good Earth would visit me at such an outrageous time as dinner?” he asked himself. He straightened up, puffed out his chest, and pulled the door open with as much aggressiveness as he could, to convey to his guest that they were unwelcome.

The sight before him had him melt, however. Thorin Oakenshield was standing at his doorstep. A think blanket of snow covered the dwarf’s braided hair, and a few snow flakes had gotten caught in the king’s thick eyelashes. Bilbo was thankful he had dropped the knife earlier in the kitchen, because his whole body went limp and he dropped the carrot that he was still holding. It landed on his foot with a thump, before rolling away until it got caught on the foot of a chair.

Everything was silent, except for the small gusts of wind that sometimes lifted the king’s braids into a joyful dance. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t find any words to say, so he closed it and continued staring down the dwarf standing in front of him. After what seemed like an eternity, Thorin spoke up.

“Master Baggins,” he greeted, formally. Bilbo nodded, almost irritated that the Dwarf didn't remember.

“Just Bilbo is fine,” he said, crossing his arms in an attempt to show authority. However, he couldn't do so without blushing at the fact that his voice was a few pitches higher than normal. Thorin smiled at that, hitting the tip of his boot against the floor.

“May I invite myself in?” he asked, and Bilbo jumped up before stepping aside and opening the door to let the dwarf in.

“O-Of course,” he answered. His throat was dry. Why had he fantasised about this, again? He had no idea what to do now that Thorin was standing in _his_ hallway, awkwardly, might he add, with wet hair and wet clothes from the molten snow.

Thorin reached for his pocket and pulled out a small box.

“I have a delivery,” he said, handing the small wrapped box to Bilbo. The Hobbit grabbed it with shaking hands. He was about to unwrap it on the spot but remembered that the dwarf was still standing before him in soaked clothing.

“You must be cold!” he exclaimed, running into the living room and motioning for Thorin to follow. “Please, sit, and hand me your coat before you freeze to death.” The dwarf complied, not without a small smile and a comment on the way the hobbit resembled his grandmother. Bilbo politely ignored the comment, spreading Thorin’s coat on a footrest that he didn’t consider as treasurable as the rest of his household.

The King watched him with piercing blue eyes as Bilbo shuffled around his house, picking up the carrot from the floor and running to the kitchen to continue making his stew.

“Are you hungry?” he called out from the kitchen, “I can make more stew for you, if you would like.” When Thorin didn’t reply, Bilbo turned around only to find himself nose to chest with the king.

“Open it,” Thorin whispered, grabbing the knife from Bilbo’s hand and placing it down on the counter behind him. Bilbo could feel himself turn red. His face felt so hot, he thought he would soon stop breathing. He reached for the present that he had put down on the dinner table, and slowly unwound the leather straps wrapped around it. As Bilbo unraveled what strange object Thorin could have possibly brought him, the dwarf inched closer. Once Bilbo had discarded the paper, he found himself with a golden acorn in his hand.

The small artifact glistened in his hand as it rolled around his palm, a golden chain linked to the top of it, and Bilbo found himself not able to find any words to thank the dwarf. Thorin placed his hands down on the counter, one on each side of him. The movement caused Thorin's chest to lean into his own, and Bilbo forgot how to breathe for the longest amount of time.

“Have you planted the seed?” the dwarf asked, and Bilbo nodded dumbly.

“I have,” he whispered quietly, almost irritated that he couldn't remember how to breathe. The Hobbit could hear Thorin chuckling silently, and looked up at him.

“A token of my appreciation,” Thorin whispered, before pushing himself away from the counter and reaching for both of Bilbo’s wrists. He grabbed them gently, bringing both up to his chest before he leaned down to catch the Hobbit’s lips in a swift kiss.

If Bilbo hadn't melted before that had happened, he certainly had now. He felt his legs give way and desperately grabbed handfuls of Thorin’s tunic to keep his balance. The Dwarf pulled him closer, before letting go of the Hobbit’s wrists to wrap his arms around his waist. Bilbo could have sworn that he exploded when Thorin's warm hands started rubbing circles around his lower back. The kiss lasted too short for Bilbo’s liking, but the King pulled away, giving him a small smile.

“I- I love it,” Bilbo whispered, looking back down at the acorn. Thorin leaned close to his ear.

“And I love you, Master Baggins.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just so that we're clear with it all - I didn't add Thorin's heartbreaking dialogue at the end of BotFA because I felt like it would be a little awkward.. 
> 
> So I made up my own less painful one, I hope that doesn't kill anyone QQ


End file.
